


four-star daydream

by dicaeopolis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cats, M/M, Pets, Pink Floyd references, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 01:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7555375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicaeopolis/pseuds/dicaeopolis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo's cat has a problem with stealing clothing. Oikawa has a problem with Kuroo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	four-star daydream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rarepairenabler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarepairenabler/gifts).



> this is definitely the fluffiest thing I've ever written to a Pink Floyd song ([this one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cpbbuaIA3Ds) if anyone is unfamiliar)
> 
> [AMBER'S](http://www.twitter.com/ambyguity_) FAULT (obviously) from a prompt like. UP ON THREE MONTHS AGO??? idk it's been a while since I wrote some good old oikuroo hijinks TAKE THIS
> 
> promo posts are on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/dickaeopolis/status/756521325481586688) and [tumblr](http://vivasimplemindedness.tumblr.com/post/147802312023/four-star-daydream)!!

The problem started with the Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt in Oikawa’s laundry basket.

The problem wasn’t that there  _ was _ a Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt in Oikawa’s laundry basket. There was usually a Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt in Oikawa’s laundry basket, since the t-shirt in question was his favorite pajama shirt and he wore it at least once a week. The problem was that Oikawa’s Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt was a size  _ extra-extra-large _ that he had ordered specially online because he couldn’t find bigger than a large in real life and he specifically wanted an extra-extra-large for its baggy comfort - and the Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt in Oikawa’s laundry basket was decidedly  _ not _ .

Shirts could shrink in the wash, sure, but not after  _ three years of washing _ . And that didn’t change the damn  _ label _ to read “medium”.

Oikawa stood in front of the standard-issue mirror on his dorm room’s closet door and stared at his reflection. The lighting was  _ terrible _ in front of the mirror, frankly useless for selfies, but he could see enough to recognize that  _ this was not his shirt _ . It was snug around his chest and shoulders - and not even in the suggestive way, in the way where you can’t really move your arms around, and you get a little worried about ripping open a seam every time you stretch because of that one time you spent a little too much time in the weight room for a few months and you went to put on your favorite button-down and shrugged to make it fit more comfortably since it was feeling a little tight and it just fucking ripped clean down the back-

Not that that had ever happened to Oikawa “Dorito Torso” Tooru. Ever. The  _ point _ was, this was not Oikawa “Dorito Torso” Tooru’s Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt.

Oikawa carefully peeled the shirt off his dorito-shaped torso, then sat down at his desk, opened his laptop, and went to type out a viciously barbed post in his dorm’s Facebook group. He explained the situation with all the icy fury of liquid nitrogen, hit the little blue post button with a click of pure spite, and shut his laptop.

It took about fifteen minutes before his phone rang. Oikawa checked the caller ID before picking up.

As expected.

He tapped the  _ answer call _ button. “I hate you and everything you stand for.”

“I have your shirt,” said Kuroo Tetsurou.

“I’m going to tie your mangy feline up in a sack and throw it in the river.”

“Don’t come over for five minutes or so, kay? I have to change, I’m still in my pajamas.”

It was  _ four in the afternoon _ , but Oikawa really couldn’t dwell on that when he already had so many more pressing things to judge Kuroo for. On occasion, he did feel a modicum of regret for how frequently and intensely he dragged Kuroo - but really, the boy made it so easy.

He didn’t bother waiting the requisite five minutes, considering that the thousand times this had already happened Kuroo had paid Oikawa no such courtesy when  _ he _ brought the clothing back. Instead, he just picked up the inferior Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt, walked down the hall barefoot, and pushed open the door of Kuroo’s room without knocking. “I’m here,” he announced.

A startled curse burst from Kuroo’s mouth as he tripped on the skinny jeans around his knees and toppled onto the floor with a  _ thump. _ “I told you to  _ wait.” _

Oikawa stalked over to Kuroo’s bed and sat down, staring down at Kuroo wriggling into his skinny jeans on the floor like a turtle on its back. “Why would I do that?”

“I’m in my  _ underwear,” _ Kuroo pointed out. He finally pulled the jeans over what could charitably be called his ass and scrambled to his feet, patting at his hair in a futile attempt to make it neater.

“And I would be in  _ my _ Dark Side Of The Moon t-shirt if it were  _ where it’s supposed to be,” _ Oikawa informed him. “You can’t always wear what you want, Kuroo-chan.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, but he went over to his laundry basket and pulled out an oversized black t-shirt with the familiar prism on the front. Oikawa accepted the shirt, pressed his face into the soft fabric, and then pulled away to check the size on the tag - XXL. Oversized, baggy,  _ perfect _ .

“I do understand why you want to steal my clothes all the time,” Oikawa allowed - pretty magnanimously of himself, he thought. “This is the best shirt in the world.”

“To be fair,  _ I _ didn’t steal it,” Kuroo countered. “It was-”

On cue, one cruel paw and one vicious eye appeared from the dark void beneath Kuroo’s desk. Kenma the cat stalked out, practically oozing malevolence.

_ “Ugh,” _ said Oikawa, with feeling. He pulled his feet up onto the bed, out of the creature’s reach.

The hellbeast opened its vile mouth and slowly, deliberately, hissed at him.

“I hate that thing,” he muttered. “I’m going to drown it.”

Kuroo frowned. “Leave Kenma alone.”

“It  _ steals my clothes _ .”

“ _ She _ ,” Kuroo corrected. “And it’s only because you leave them in the laundry room for days on end.”

“It isn’t supposed to be  _ wandering around the dorm _ in the first place!”

“She gets bored at night,” Kuroo insisted. “Do you have  _ my _ shirt?”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes at the subject change, but handed over the size medium Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt. Kuroo pulled it over his head and tucked it into the waistband of his skinny jeans.

His shoulders were narrower than Oikawa’s, and his chest skinnier. The shirt fit him well. Too well.

Kuroo noticed. “Like what you see?” he asked, gesturing to his everything.

Oikawa strategically dodged the question by telling him, “I like you a lot more when your  _ cat doesn’t steal my clothing.” _

“In my defense-”

_ “There really is no justification-” _

_ “In my defense, _ ” Kuroo continued, “it’s hilarious.”

Oikawa gave him a look - as though he was a decaying fish on the beach at low tide. Kuroo just smiled back, smug as ever.

“I hate you so much,” Oikawa finally bit out, when it was clear that Kuroo had no regrets. He stood up from the bed and moved to leave, careful to give Kenma the cat a wide berth, when-

Holy shit.

Oikawa stopped dead in his tracks, staring at his reflection in Kuroo’s mirror.

Behind him, Kuroo made a noise of confusion. “Are you really that distracted by your own fac-”

“Shut up,” Oikawa interrupted, holding up one finger in Kuroo’s direction without taking his eyes off the mirror. He turned from side to side a little, then tugged his phone out of his back pocket and placed his shirt on Kuroo’s desk so it wouldn’t distract from the aesthetic. He opened up his camera, snapped a few pictures, and then turned to Kuroo with a delighted smile.

“The selfie lighting here is  _ perfect.” _

Kuroo frowned. “What?”

“The  _ selfie lighting here _ is  _ perfect _ .”

“No, I heard you. I just don’t understand what makes selfie lighting  _ good. _ Don’t you have a mirror in your own room?”

Oikawa sniffed. “Goes to show what  _ you _ know. Your mirror has natural lighting from the window, see? And your Christmas lights give it a nice frame, so you get a halo effect.”

Kuroo came up behind Oikawa and peered into the mirror. “A halo? Are you trying to look like an angel?”

Oikawa waved away the question. “I don’t need a mirror to do that, Kuroo-chan.”

“Alright,” Kuroo said. “But I still don’t really get it. Light is light.”

“Well, it’s not a problem for you,” Oikawa assured him. “No lighting on earth could make  _ you _ look good.” It was a lie, of course. Something about Kuroo’s messy dark hair and warm brown eyes and lanky frame and perpetual smirk managed to  _ work _ for him. But Kuroo didn’t need to know that.

However, Kuroo seemed to know anyways, judging by how he met Oikawa’s eyes in the mirror and smiled at him. “And no lighting could ever make you look bad, so it’s a moot point.”

“You’re  _ terrible,” _ Oikawa bit out for lack of any better response to what seemed like a sincere compliment.

“I know.” Kuroo’s smile widened into a grin. “Want to go to the arcade?”

Oikawa sighed and turned away from the mirror. “Sure.”

Really, their neighborship wasn’t  _ that _ volatile. Oikawa might even call it  _ friendship. _ They  _ did _ spend quite a lot of time around each other. Things only ever became this stormy when Kenma the cat  _ stole Oikawa’s goddamn clothes. _

However, things were slated to become almost as stormy as a clothes-stealing incident when they got to the old arcade and Kuroo suggested doubling up on the beat-up old DDR machine.

Oikawa examined him closely. Even in the dim neon lighting flashing all around them, he looked sincere. “…Okay, but I pick song first.”

“Deal,” Kuroo agreed.

Oikawa kicked his ass at Centerfold. Afterwards, he leaned back on the safety bar and gave Kuroo the smuggest smile he could muster. “I guess we know which one of us is a better dancer now.”

“That’s not very sportsmanlike of you,” Kuroo criticized.

“Did I  _ ever  _ say I was above gloating, Kuroo-chan?”

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I choose next song. Remember.”

“Bring it on,” Oikawa chirped.

Five minutes later, Oikawa was panting harshly as he leaned on the safety bar. He stared at Kuroo with some kind of strange mixture of disgust and awe. Kuroo was leaning forward against the machine, breathing a little lighter - but staring with pride at his A score.

“You know every single step of Butterfly,” Oikawa finally managed.

“Hell yeah I do.”

“Of  _ Butterfly,” _ Oikawa repeated.

“That’s what I said,” Kuroo agreed.

“You know  _ every single step _ of  _ Butterfly.” _ Oikawa started snickering. He couldn’t help himself.

“I - is there something  _ wrong _ with that?” Kuroo’s tone was oddly defensive as he stood up from the screen.

Oikawa patted his sweaty shoulder. “Maybe not if you’re a total nerd. It’s okay, we can go again on a less lame song.”

They proceeded with more songs of dubious lameness until Kuroo reached into his pocket to continue and came up with nothing but lint.

“Oh  _ no.” _

Oikawa glanced over at his ghastly face. “Are you out?”

“I spent all I had,” Kuroo moaned, all song disputes forgotten. “No, that was my food money for tonight…”

Oikawa studied him closely.

“It seems we each have something the other wants.”

Kuroo looked up. “Hmm?”

Oikawa smiled his most disarming, most dangerous smile. “Let’s make a deal.”

* * *

_From: Beewaizumi, 8:49 P.M._  
Did I see you getting takeout with Kuroo Tetsurou earlier?

_To: Beewaizumi, 8:51 P.M._  
you should’ve come with us to the arcade, iwa-chan! i could’ve kicked your ass at centerfold too (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

_From: Beewaizumi, 8:53 P.M._  
Not a chance

From: Beewaizumi, 8:54 P.M.  
But what were you doing at the arcade with  _ Kuroo? _ Don’t you hate him?

_To: Beewaizumi, 8:55 P.M._  
playing DDR?

_ From: Beewaizumi, 8:57 P.M.  
_ Don’t be difficult.

_To: Beewaizumi, 8:58 P.M._  
you’re asking the impossible, iwa-chan (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

_To: Beewaizumi, 9:06 P.M._  
ugh, fine

_To: Beewaizumi, 9:09 P.M._  
we were getting dinner because I bought him dinner in exchange for unlimited access to his mirror because it has really good selfie lighting in comparison to mine and he needed money because he used up all of his money playing DDR when we went to the arcade after I went over to his room so I could get back my Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt which his demon hell cat stole from the laundry room

_From: Beewaizumi, 9:08 P.M._  
Doesn’t that cat only steal your clothes because you leave them out in the laundry room?

_To: Beewaizumi, 9:09 P.M._  
EAT MY ASS IWA-CHAN????????????

_From: Beewaizumi, 9:11 P.M._  
Pass

_From: Beewaizumi, 9:12 P.M._  
Also, weren’t you talking at lunch yesterday about how much Kuroo pisses you off?

_To: Beewaizumi, 9:14 P.M._  
MY ENTIRE ASS

* * *

Around two o’clock in the morning, Oikawa sat straight up in bed, eyes bulging with rage.

_ He had never picked his Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt back up off Kuroo’s desk. _

* * *

When heatwaves struck campus, most people left their doors open when they were home in an attempt to get any semblance of air circulation. It usually worked out pretty well. Unfortunately, sometimes it also ended up like this:

“Hello?” said Kuroo’s electronically distorted voice.

“Kuroo-chan,” Oikawa chirped. “Want to come over? To my room. Where I live.”

“…Why?” Damn it, he sounded suspicious already.

“No reason. Just wanted to spend some quality time with you-”

“Oikawa.” Kuroo sounded far too amused for anyone’s good. “Does this have anything to do with the fact that Kenma is missing from my room right now?”

_ “No-” _

“Really,” said Kuroo’s voice from the doorway. Oikawa looked up from where he was huddled up against the wall on his bed to see Kuroo grinning hugely with his phone held to his ear.

“It’s not  _ funny,” _ Oikawa hissed at him. He hung up the call on his own phone, now that Kuroo could clearly see the situation.

“It’s  _ very _ funny,” Kuroo disagreed. He stepped inside, looking down at the floor with no shortage of amusement.

Kenma was curled up in the dead center of Oikawa’s rug. Under her right paw, there lay a crumpled pair of baby-blue underpants that read SENPAI MATERIAL across the butt. As Kuroo approached her, she opened her mouth and let out a long, complaining meow.

“It’s  _ not,” _ Oikawa insisted. “She came into my  _ room _ \- trapped me  _ on my own bed _ \-  _ brought me your briefs from your laundry-” _

Kuroo cocked an eyebrow. “You got a problem with my underwear?”

“I have a problem with your underwear being  _ on my floor.” _

Kuroo gave him a look that could only be described as lecherous.

Oikawa flipped him off.  _ “What I’m saying is, _ take your senpai underpants and your hell cat out of my room.”

Kuroo snickered at him, but he  _ did _ bend to pick Kenma up.

And Kenma  _ yowled. _ Oikawa shrieked at the noise - and the next thing he knew, Kuroo was cursing loudly as he dove after his pet, who had darted under Oikawa’s bed. Kenma yowled again, and Oikawa shot off his bed, catching Kuroo by the scruff of his t-shirt on the way. He skidded to a stop in the doorway, breathing heavily and with Kuroo in a startled jumble of limbs next to him.

Oikawa peered at his bed. Underneath it, a pair of malevolent eyes gleamed back.

“IT’S FINE,” Oikawa said. “WE CAN LEAVE HER HERE. I WILL GO.”

Kuroo looked mildly concerned. “Oikawa, it’s fine, I can-”

“GET YOUR SENPAI UNDIES AND LET’S GO.”

Kuroo got his senpai undies and they went.

“I’m going to call an exterminator,” Oikawa muttered as they strode down the hall towards Kuroo’s room.

Kuroo bumped his shoulder. “Hey, at least she’s stealing  _ my _ clothes instead of  _ yours. _ That’s a new thing she’s learned, actually. She’s pretty smart, you know.”

“Little shit,” Oikawa muttered.

“Me or Kenma?”

“Literally both of you.”

Kuroo followed Oikawa into his room. “Well, you can keep the underwear, if you want. In exchange for your Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes as he dropped down into Kuroo’s desk chair and pushed off to zoom across the room. “Kuroo-chan, you’re the only person on this campus with a butt small enough to fit into those underpants.”

Kuroo came up behind him and flicked him on the ear. “Why’re you always so mean to me, Oikawa?”

Oikawa put one foot against Kuroo’s bed and twirled the chair around in a circle. “Cause I know you can take it?”

That was a bit more honest than Oikawa had intended, but Kuroo didn’t seem perturbed. He just chuckled and leaned forward on the back of the chair. “That’s true. Do you want to stay here for the rest of the afternoon? Since your room has been commandeered.”

Oikawa tilted his head back and narrowed his eyes up at him. “Stay here and do what?”

“Mmm…” Kuroo, upside-down, tapped his nose. “We could cuddle.”

Oikawa snorted.  _ “Cuddle? _ Yeah, right, as if I’d  _ ever _ \- with  _ you-” _

Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

_ “…Just _ this once.”

* * *

“You know,” Oikawa said conversationally in his phone, “most cats leave you dead animals to show affection. Not  _ other people’s clothing.” _

“So you admit she likes you?”

“Ugh, it’s not the  _ point _ if she likes me or not. The point is, I don’t like  _ her.” _

“Really?”

“What do you mean,  _ really? _ She’s a menace. She’s annoying and unpredictable and always monopolizing my time and space that I  _ did not invite her into-” _

“But you don’t think she’s a cute cat?”

“What? No.”

“You’re sure?”

“I  _ don’t,” _ Oikawa insisted.

“Whatever you say.” Oikawa could  _ hear _ Kuroo’s smile in his voice. “What did she bring you this time?”

“Well…” Oikawa examined the fabric in his hands. “One of the things is a pair of striped underwear. This one has an oval cut out of the butt. I don’t know why.” Kuroo started to say something, but Oikawa cut him off. “And I don’t  _ want _ to know why. The other is a sweater. It’s soft, and cream-colored, and, uh.”

“Oh no.” Kuroo’s voice was very small.

“It’s got a cut-out over the chest,” Oikawa went on.

Kuroo’s silence in response was miserable.

“To show the cleavage,” Oikawa added.

Kuroo groaned. Even though he was holding two incredibly awful articles of clothing, Oikawa grinned. There was something truly heartwarming about hearing Kuroo embarrassed. “Can you just bring it back?”

Oikawa allowed himself to fall back onto his bed, beaming at the ceiling. “Bring what back, Kuroo-chan? You’ll have to be more specific-”

_ “My underwear and sweater, you ass-” _

“Sorry, which ones?” If Oikawa hadn’t been on a cell phone, he would’ve twirled the cord around his finger. “You own a lot of clothing, you know-”

_ “My keyhole shimapan and my titty window sweater, okay-” _

“Mmm, you just had to ask, Kuroo-chan.” Oikawa hung up on Kuroo’s embarrassed groan, smiling beatifically to himself. There was something so wonderfully cathartic about seeing Kuroo embarrassed.

Two minutes, later, however, the tables were turned when Kuroo answered his door in a Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt.

A large, baggy Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt.

_ Oikawa’s _ Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt.

“Hey, Oikawa,” Kuroo said, grinning hugely.

Oikawa didn’t bother replying before he tackled him.

Kuroo, infuriatingly, started laughing as they tumbled down to the floor together and Oikawa started yanking the shirt up. “Haha - if you wanted to get me out of my clothes that badly, you only had to ask-”

_ “I thought you’d lost it, you insufferable-” _

“Pff - I’ve been sleeping in it every night-” Kuroo didn’t seem to be putting up much of a fight as Oikawa pulled the shirt up over his head - he even lifted his shoulders off the rug and raised his arms to help.

Oikawa glared down at him.  _ “I _ want to sleep in it, you prick, on the grounds that it’s  _ my shirt-” _

“Is it really, though?” Kuroo wondered aloud. He shimmied the rest of the way out of the shirt and pushed himself up to a sitting position, with Oikawa still seething in his lap. “Cause, like, it’s been  _ months, _ and I think there’s squatters’ rights at some point, like, you keep something around for long enough, it spends enough time in your room, it becomes at least  _ partially _ yours-”

Oikawa only had to lean forward a little to shut him up.

When he drew back, Kuroo’s tongue darted out to swipe over his lips. He still wore his unbearable smirk, but his eyes were shining.

“Not everyone’s a damn lit major,” Oikawa informed him. “You don’t have to make metaphors out of everythi-” He made a muffled noise of surprise as Kuroo cut him off with a kiss.  _ “Hey-” _ Another kiss.  _ “I’m trying to call you out here-” _

Kroo pushed Oikawa backwards onto the floor and kissed the words right out of his mouth. Oikawa gave up on dragging him and just kissed back.

He did still add, when Kuroo moved to his neck and finally let him breathe, “You are the  _ worst.” _

Kuroo grinned against the crook of his neck. “You  _ love  _ it.”

“Shut  _ up.” _

* * *

_From: Beewaizumi, 3:12 P.M._  
I passed Kuroo’s room earlier and the door was open and your Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt was on his floor?

_To: Beewaizumi, 3:17 P.M._  
my ass, iwa-chan. my ass

* * *

Oikawa had a problem. Oikawa had a lot of problems. He could make a list of them all, actually.

  1. Every single day, Ushijima Wakatoshi got in the shower after volleyball practice at the exact same time as him, and each of them left his phone playing music in the changing stall as he showered, except Ushijima Wakatoshi’s phone had better speakers, and no matter how hard Oikawa tried to put his own phone higher up or in a cup or bowl to amplify the sound his Britney was always, _always_ drowned out by Ushiwaka playing fucking _Disney songs_ and mumbling along to _A Whole New World_ -
  2. The persistent niggling suspicion that NASA knew more than they were letting on about extraterrestrial life-
  3. Every single day, Ushijima Wakatoshi got out of the shower at the exact same time as him, and came and stood by him as they brushed their teeth even though there were four other sinks available that were _not_ right next to Oikawa and acted like he _hadn’t_ just spent an entire shower drowning out Oikawa’s music, and honestly, he just wanted to dance to Womanizer in peace _once_ , was that _really_ too much to ask-
  4. The dearth of private interplanetary travel meant that any extraterrestrial knowledge of consequence was controlled directly by the government, and so even if the dark side of the moon hid goddamn Coruscant Oikawa _wouldn’t know_ -
  5. And speaking of the dark side of the moon, some lanky asshole in a titty window sweater _still had his fucking t-shirt-_



“You’re going to have to give it back eventually, you know,” he told the rat’s nest of black hair nestled into the crook of his hip and his thigh.

“Oh, I am, am I?” said his lap.

Oikawa scritched at the base of Kuroo’s neck, tangling his fingers in Kuroo’s hair. “What do you even  _ need _ two Dark Side of the Moon t-shirts for?”

Kuroo yawned enormously and attempted to press himself even closer to Oikawa. “Well, yours is comfortable.”

“Yes, that’s why I want it  _ back.” _

The shirt in question was nowhere to be seen, even though they were in Kuroo’s room. Oikawa had come over to demand his rightful property for the millionth time, but Kenma the cat had scared him up onto the bed. Kuroo had followed, and Kuroo’s bed was comfortable, and so was Kuroo, and it was chilly in their drafty old dorms, so Oikawa hadn’t really put up much of a fuss when Kuroo snuggled up to him. It wasn’t like they  _ never _ cuddled. They did a lot of cuddling, actually. Very enjoyable cuddling. Kissing, too. Which was kind of worrisome considering that Kuroo was one of the most horrid people Oikawa had ever met, but that matter was of much less pressing concern than the  _ retrieval of the t-shirt. _

Kuroo said something in response, but it was muffled where his face was smooshed against Oikawa’s jeans. Oikawa frowned down at him. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Kuroo squirmed around onto his back, resting his head on Oikawa’s leg instead and pressing his cheek against Oikawa’s hip. “Maybe I like having you around, hmm?”

“I like having my  _ clothing _ around,” Oikawa retorted, hoping Kuroo would say nothing about the redness of his face.

“You’re blushing,” Kuroo pointed out instantly, with a smirk like a slime mold.

“I am  _ not.” _

Kuroo grinned. “You’re cute.”

“I’m adorable,” Oikawa huffed, still red.

“You’re  _ precious.” _

“I hate you  _ so much _ .”

“Love you too, babe.”

“I hate everything about you.”

“Have I mentioned I love your smile?”

“You infuriate me.”

Kuroo smiled up at him and dropped a lazy kiss on the nearest part of Oikawa that he could reach, which was his stomach. “You love me and you know it. Want to get bubble tea? The film club is doing a fundraiser.”

Oikawa considered, then heaved a sigh.  _ “Fine.” _

Kuroo sat up and stretched, then hopped off the bed. “Don’t act like it’s a hardship, you love bubble tea.”

“It’s not the  _ bubble tea, _ you smug bastard.” Oikawa followed him with some reluctance, quietly mourning the loss of Kuroo’s warmth. “It’s the fact that they’re going to charge double profit on it, because it’s a fundraiser, and  _ honestly _ the fixed cost of the machine can’t possibly be  _ that _ high, and this campus is so full of hipsters that the demand far exceeds their supply no matter what-”

Kuroo flicked him on the nose to shut him up as he helped him into his jacket. “D’you think you can stop being an econ major long enough to enjoy the lychee? You’re one of those hipsters you’re dragging, you know.”

“Shut up, you mediocre lit major.”

“I’m at least an  _ above average _ lit major.”

“I give you maybe a C-plus.”

“False, if anything I’m a solid ten.”

Oikawa sniffed. “You’re an  _ eight _ at best. Maybe a nine.”

Kuroo bumped his shoulder. “Oikawa, that’s just not fair.”

“Fine, a nine-point-five,” Oikawa allowed. “But  _ no _ higher.”

They headed over to the campus center arm in arm. Oikawa went for lychee - Kuroo did know him pretty well, after all. He wrinkled his nose at the price until Kuroo elbowed him in the side to pay up, and started sipping on his tea as he waited for Kuroo’s order.

Kuroo went for honeydew flavor. (Oikawa kicked him in the shin before he could make the “honey, I do” pun to the tired-looking film student cashier.) He accepted his bubble tea and dropped his spare change into the TIPS cup.

Oikawa raised an eyebrow at him as they wove through the tables towards an empty one by the window. “Throwing away change like that, you might not break budget this month.”

Kuroo waved away his concern. “No worries. I’m incredibly wealthy, you see.”

Oikawa clicked his tongue. “Right, your secret inheritance. How could I have forgotten.”

“I’m just  _ rolling _ in the dough.” Kuroo dropped down into one of the chairs.

Oikawa nodded solemnly as he sat down in the other, thinking about the strained laughter Kuroo had let out last time he checked his bank balance in Oikawa’s presence. “You’re probably the richest person I know.”

“Mmhmm.” Kuroo sucked up a slurp of tea. “Think I’ll buy me a football team.”

Oikawa blinked. “What?”

Kuroo repeated himself.

“No, no, I heard you, it’s just that you’ve never cared about football in the entire time I’ve - what are you looking at me like that for?”

Kuroo appeared to be struggling mightily to restrain near-hysterical laughter.

Oikawa scowled. “ _ What? _ ”

“That’s-” Kuroo managed- “a line from Dark Side of the Moon. You’ve. You  _ own that t-shirt _ , and you’ve never listened to Dark Side of the Moon, have you?”

Oikawa choked on a boba. _ Shit- _

“You haven’t,” Kuroo said incredulously as Oikawa coughed and spluttered. “You turned our dorm  _ upside-down _ over a Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt, and-”

“Have  _ you _ ?” Oikawa asked him, point-blank.

“I just quoted it, didn’t I?”

Oikawa’s eyes bored into him. “Sing it.”

Kuroo fell silent, and Oikawa’s grin was wicked.

_ Got him. _

“I’m waiting,” he added after a moment, just to be an asshole, and Kuroo groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Fine, okay, I’ve never - oh my  _ god _ , would you  _ stop laughing _ -”

“You looked up the lyrics,” Oikawa announced, vicious with delight. “You looked up the lyrics of the entire album, and yet you  _ didn’t listen to it _ -”

“How the hell did you even  _ know _ -”

The sky was blue, birds were singing, and Kuroo Tetsurou was writhing in embarrassment. For Oikawa Tooru, this was about as good as it got. “You wouldn’t have thought to expect it of me if you hadn’t done it yourself.”

Kuroo’s entire face was red. It was wonderful. “Look, it’s  _ good poetry _ -”

“You can’t even sing  _ one line _ -”

“ _ The Pink Floyd movie scared me, okay- _ ”

“I can’t believe  _ you _ made fun of  _ me _ -”

“Oh, fuck  _ off _ !”


End file.
